


Home

by Murmurs



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Gamzee's a travelling merchant, Implied Human!stuck, Post-apocalyptic AU, and a lil bit of angst to tie it all together, and fluff, however it does not explicitly mention being human or not being human, its real sweet though don't worry, reader does NOT have a name and only has an implied description, reader is his partner, so you can decide what species tbh, sweet smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murmurs/pseuds/Murmurs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the years after the violent destruction of the world, you and your partner take up new trades to stay alive. Gamzee, being a travelling merchant, has been noticeably leaving for longer lengths of time. Afraid that he is drifting away, you confront him during your reunion; letting old truths out and creating new possibilities for both you and him. </p><p>Gamzee/Female!Reader, no reader physical description or name. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

Rubble crunches under your feet; dirt and grime mixed with the broken glass that littered the once-was city. You swear that the smell of smoke still lingers, the feeling of the flames licking your skin, the screams echoing down the streets amidst the chaos. But, of course, the ruins are only plagued with memories; the only sound to be heard is a lone sparrow calling into the distance. 

A loose stone falls somewhere nearby, and you startle. The sudden noise snaps you back from the lull you’ve been in and reminds you where you’re going. 

You close your eyes for a moment and breathe in the crisp evening air to clear your head a bit. These aren’t the things you should be thinking about, not now. After all, you haven’t seen him for a long time. You want to make the most of your time together, and dredging up a past he’s very well aware of himself would do neither of you any good. 

Past the old bakery, you remember how it smelled on the early Saturday mornings, like fresh bread. There were always flowers in the shop window. To your left, come looming and magnificent, even in decay, the half-fallen skyscrapers, windows blown out and walls trailed with ivy. You walk past houses, stores, and see remnants of all who used to resign here. 

By the time you finally reach your destination, you don’t feel nearly as excited as earlier in the day. In front of you is an old house; to anyone glancing, it wouldn’t leave any more of a mark than the thousands of other dead houses in the area would, but you know better. For a moment, you stand dumbly, frozen on your feet. Doubts worm their way into your mind. What if something happened to him, if he’s not here? What if he had something better to do? What if he doesn’t even want you anymore? It’s been months, months. What if what if what if. You knock, the way you did when you were kids and you were carefree and naive. Tap-taptap-tap. 

Silence. Then, the door opens. He’s just how you remember him, and yet something about him is different.

He’s always been tall, whereas, you... Well, you never seemed to reach the “growth spurt” your mother always raved about you someday having. You look up at him, at the curly locks framing his narrow face, his thin lips, tugged up at the corners. Years ago, you thought he was stunning in his makeup- but now you know he’s even more stunning without. Your gaze falls to his jaw line, his neck, his impossibly strong yet boney arms you know hold just enough strength to keep you comforted in your weakest moments. And, from the way his eyes are darting, he’s looking you over just as much as you are him. 

When you’re both satisfied with each other, your eyes meet. You catch the glint in his eye, the one he’s always reserved for you, and you exchange smiles. The moment he opens his arms for you, you find yourself stepping into him, immersing yourself in him again. His scent, his feel, his touch. You missed this.

“ ‘s been a motherfucking long time, ain’t it?” His words are slow and deliberate in your ear. You sigh into his chest and reply, “Too long.”

Your embrace ends far too soon for your liking. Gamzee looks over your shoulder, surveying the street. “We should be up and getting inside already. Ain’t gonna be bringing no good to be hanging around out here for too long.” He slips his hand around yours, and with one last glance back, leads you inside. 

Although his home had been vacant for the months he’d been travelling, it looks like he’s put an effort in to get it clean for you. There’s a substantial amount of dust on all the inherently useless objects he’s collected over the years, but many of his tools and furniture pieces have been wiped and decluttered. As he leads you through the hiveways of bobbles, knick-knacks, and apparent garbage, you look around at the new things decorating the once-empty corners of the house: corked bottles suspended from string and nailed to the wall, numerous rounded, fork-like utensils lying spread out on top of an overflowing bookshelf, and some pocketless pants half-folded over the back of a chair- how impractical. 

There are certainly more oddities that have been added to his collection, but you don’t get the chance to see them as Gamzee proceeds into what you vaguely remember as being somewhat of a kitchen, and you follow suit. On the right is a makeshift stove and a well-chipped counter piled with dishes and kitchen utensils. A few buckets are lined up at the side of the room, most filled with water. The waning smell of cooking lingered faintly in the air. Your mouth waters. Gamzee allows his hand to slide from yours, and he begins rummaging through containers of food to serve the both of you- it’s always the first thing you do, so eating is over with and focus can turn elsewhere. 

“You’ve been cooking today? How’d you come by any ingredients?” Fresh food is hard to come by around this area, has been for a while. You try and pick up some intel for when you no longer have the luxury of his rich meals, which will regrettably be only for a handful of days. 

He chuckles warmly in his familiar laugh. “Oh, sister, I’ve got my ways. You ain’t been at thinking I’m all up and travelling for nothing, have you?” He knows you think better of him than that, and doesn’t wait for you to answer. Instead, he hands you a plate and you thank him. “I’ll be meetin’ you over at the bedroom- no better place for us to be relaxing than there.” As he speaks, he nods his head in direction of a doorway on the other side of the room, and you make to it, followed by Gamzee a few minutes later. You sit together on a floor-bound mattress, but it isn’t uncomfortable, and before long you’ve both gotten settled and you’re caught up in each other’s words. 

As you lean up against Gamzee, feeling his warmth behind you, you remember how much you’ve missed this. Missed him. Missed just being able to talk like you used to when you were young, about everything, without having to worry. The one caved-in wall of the homey room serves to remind you that things aren’t how they used to be, but with Gamzee’s familiar and warm presence at your back, you know it doesn’t need to be. You speak for hours after you finish your food, washing away your worries in the happiness of each other. You talk about you, how you’ve been, the new happenings in your old hometown; if you could still serve to call it a “town” anymore, that is. You talk about his travels; where he’s been, what he’s done, the oddities he’s sold and stories behind the ones he didn’t. He tells you about two girls named Jane and Roxy, whom he passed on his wanderings and exchanged wares with. He tells you about the survivalist named Tavros and his dog pack, and when he tells you about a pointed young blind woman named Terezi, you both laugh at the conversations he recounts. You think you would have enjoyed meeting her, had you been there.

But such jovial topics eventually make way for more arduous ones, and you find yourself putting some of your doubts in the air. There is a lull in the conversation when you take a breath, and ask, “How do I know you’ll always come back?”

He pauses for a moment, before turning to you. You catch the glimmer of surprise in his features, and the darker shadow of hesitation. You continue quickly, “I’d trust you with my life, I really would, but every time you leave you take longer to come back, every time you leave I’m scared that it’s for good. You meet so many people on your travels, how hard would it be to find someone better than me? I don’t know what ties you here, and I’m scared that whatever link keeps you coming back is going to break sooner or later.” You’re glancing everywhere but him, now, and as you take a breath to continue, you feel firm hands turn your head and soft lips meet yours. 

The kiss is slow, moving, passionate. It’s the first time you’ve been able to have him this close since your reunion, and you relish it. It’s only moments after you readjust yourself for better comfort that it breaks, and you both breath into each other. No surprise to you that you’re left breathless by him again. You realise that you’ve forgotten what you had been going to say.

Gamzee exhales quietly, and lightly shakes his head. His eyes meet yours, and he gives you the most tender, lovesick smile you’ve ever even thought to imagine. “Motherfucker,” he starts gently, “I’m not like at coming back here for anything that’s being other than you. You’d make miracles happen; stars’d be up and falling from the sky for you, if you’d be asking them. Hell, I’ve never repute you being any less than a blessed miracle yourself, if I’d ever be meeting one.” 

You can’t find words to reply, and at your falter, he meets your lips to press another warm kiss into you. “You’re where my home’s at, and I ain’t being all up and leaving you what when I belong right up here with you.”

Instead of speaking, you lean yourself into him, set your face onto his collarbone, and let him envelop you. “Thank you,” you breathe, and he hums in response. Deep vibrations reverberate in his throat, and you feel them as his skin brushes against you. 

“Can you kiss me again?” You mumble into his throat, and you hear him give a huff of laughter. “Sure thing, my wonderfully captivating sis.” Reluctantly, you pull away from the crook of his neck, and lean to meet his kiss halfway. Although the soft undertones of your previous lip lock remain, this one is more energised, and every brush of his hands settling on you feels electrifying. Gamzee tilts his head minutely to give a better angle, and you press into him, warm and inviting. When his mouth opens slightly, you lick his lips quickly, asking consent. He gives it, and allows you in.

Meanwhile, his hands have slipped under your vest and tousled into your undershirt. You took the opportunity to settle your hands on his neck and sides in response. This time it’s you who pulls away first, gasping for breath yet feeling that you’d want to drown in him at the same time. Gamzee kisses the skin just above your jawline. “You want me to be making you feel motherfucking fine?” You give a soft, sighing “yeah” in reply, and he slips his hands low on your back and pulls you onto his lap. 

Before you realise it, his lips have found your neck and are well-intent on leaving their mark on you; sucking and grinding into you, making you wet your lips and sigh. You turn, exposing more of your skin to him, and move your hand to knead his hair. God, he always knew how to make you weak for him. As his lips start to work at your throat, you feel his hands move to unbutton your vest and then bypass your shirt to grope at your skin. Every touch of him is invigorating, as if you couldn’t possibly get enough of it.

He backs off for a moment and slides your vest off one shoulder. You take the hint, and slip it off, dropping it at the side of the mattress. Smiling at you, he pushes you back gently and you rearrange yourself to lie down, grabbing a pillow to prop your head up on and squirming until you decide you’re comfortable. When you’re still, Gamzee guides your shirt upwards, with you arching to accommodate the movement. He leans back to take in your now-exposed chest and flushed figure. “I think... what you be looking more beautiful than is usual,” he says, causing you turn your head to the side in modesty, heat rising to your cheeks. “Speak for yourself..”

You feel his hands run up your sides, thumbs dragging over your stomach, the dip to your ribcage, and you shudder. Using one hand to support himself, he palms your breasts, and in turn, leans down to suck and mouth at them tenderly. Your breathing becomes uneven as it catches in your throat, and you gasp. By now your body feels warm, and a hot pulse had spread upwards at your groin, demanding attention. You ignore it in favour of focusing on Gamzee’s actions. He’s moved from your chest to your stomach, dragging his lips in a line down your middle, making his way to your sweet spot. When his mouth reaches the waistband of your pants, he looks up, seeking permission. You nod best you can, considering your head is resting on a cushion. 

A combination of your writhing and his pulling results in your pants and undergarments settling around your knees, which you’ve pulled up. You watch as Gamzee repositions himself before ducking between your legs, which pull tight around him on reflex. He shoots you a lewd stare before trailing his tongue over your hipbone and downwards. As he presses kisses to your thighs in favour of making you squirm for him, you muffle a moan and reach down to tangle your fingers in his dark hair.

“Gamzee...,” you whine. Seeming to accept your plea, Gamzee moves to give you a long lick with the flat of his tongue, eliciting a moan from you. After teasing you for a few moments, he falls into a rhythm. You writhe on impulse as he sucks at your clit, and roll your hips at the sensation of his tongue inside you. Everything is warm –no– hot, and spreading through your body. You stop muting your soft cries and groans as the heat reaches your eyes. The room fills with the sounds of you both; jarring, throaty sighs, wet sex noises , the shuffling of skin against skin, and the hot, sticking breath of two people too far absorbed in pleasure to bother listening.

When you feel Gamzee give one last suck before darting out from between your thighs, you lay on the mattress trying to catch a cool lungful of air in the heated room. He moves up beside you, and you catch his wanton gaze with your own. 

You’re nearly breathless as you speak, “You want me to return the favour?” 

“Only.. if a sister is being so inclined to.” His normally-confident tone wavers for a moment. This is new territory for you both; Gamzee is routinely the one pleasuring you, but you don’t want to leave your love making one-sided forever. 

So, you pull your pants up a bit and you move into a sitting position, leaving the denim caught taught between your thighs. Reaching for his face, you gently guide Gamzee closer, until you’re both crushing into each other, each desperate to re-map more territory on the other. As your mouths meet and your tongues glide together, you discern a flavour unknown, before realising that it’s yourself. It makes you wonder what he tastes like.

Your hands grasp at his hipbones, and he pulls apart from you. You catch a deep groan in Gamzee’s throat. His face is flushed and his breathing is heavy, mirroring your own appearance. Observing his face as your hand dips lower, you trace your fingers over the bulge in his pants. You don’t expect to feel his hand around your wrist as he gasps, pulling you away.

“This isn’t being all in the zone of comfort for me yet... could you be thinking about, maybe...” his voice trails off, but you catch his point. You cup his heated cheeks instead, and press a short kiss to his lips. “Alright.” You feel his breath of relief dissipate against your skin. “Alright,” you repeat to his mouth, softer than a whisper. “Have me now, okay?” He replies by pressing lips to your temple, words going unspoken. Okay.

You move from him to remove your boots and pants, and out of the corner of your gaze you see that Gamzee has much the same mindset of your own. As you untie the laces and slip them off the mattress, you catch glimpses of the man beside you, now flushed and shoeless, gathering his shirt and slipping it over his head. The oversized piece of black fabric ruffles his hair as it comes off, fluffing the dark curls and sending them bouncing. You slip off your jeans, and you’re ogling your partner, but open skin is fair game when you’re naked on a bed together. 

Pants hit the edge of the wall with a muffled thump and you grab Gamzee’s attention with your lips on his, mouthing and sucking. You slide your hand down the exterior of his thigh, and you taste the shameless groan that purrs in his throat. He shifts, and you know that the tightness of his pants is becoming uncomfortable. 

“Take me on my knees.” You breathe it to his lips, hot and wanting, and he licks his in response, nodding his head. While getting into position, you hear the shuffling of his pants’ removal, and then the sound of him spitting into his hand. You’re so wet, there’s no real need for any lubricant, but he’s always been careful with you; afraid to hurt you. His hands land on your hips, and slide forward and under, to cup your stomach. You feel the cold remnant of moisture on his hand. A kiss is pressed to your tailbone. “Are you being ready?” he asks, voice husky, and you reply, “Always.”

His length enters you, hot and filling, and your breath hitches as you feel the familiar stretch. He pauses to allow you time to gather your bearings before moving again. He slides back, and then presses forward into you, starting up a slow, yet substantial rhythm. His hands move from your waist to the mattress beside you for support; more of his groin and stomach gliding across your lower back in the action. You feel him inside you, but you also feel him behind you, warm and secure, hovering just inches above you. As his thrusts build angle and power, your arms brush together. It’s nearly as electrifying as the bursts of pleasure flushing through your stomach. 

The heat that has built up inside you, burning, throbbing, urges for more. You let out a wavering moan and you claw at the mattress, trying to find something to grab onto. Gamzee’s right hand shifts forward for you, and you grab his wrist. His pulse throbs beneath your fingers, and you can feel it meet the rhythm of your own bloodflow at the place where your bodies connect. A deep groan sounds behind you as lips press to your shoulder blade. They slide over your skin as your bodies move and collide together; but even so, its presence is calming to you in the demanding heat that is enveloping you, choking you. You can’t breathe, everything is hot and white and you feel nothing but Gamzee, as if only he exists in this burning world that is this mattress, this room.

Your strangled cry calls into the room as you orgasm. Gamzee stops moving in you to let you come off your high, but you’re barely lucid enough to acknowledge it. Back shaking, you pant into your arms. “Gamzee..” Your voice is unsteady and faint, but his free hand moving to rub your arm shows that he heard. He’s trembling, and you know he hasn’t hit his climax yet. “Hey... you can move, alright?” You release his now-marked wrist and you feel his length slide out of you, making you shiver. 

You turn to sit facing Gamzee, and motion him over. Your hands quickly find his hips, your eyes find his, and he nods quickly. Fingers trail down his waistline, making him gasp. He’s still hard, and you get an instant reaction the moment you curl your hand around him. Groaning, his eyes flutter shut, tongue darting out to wet his lips. When you start moving in strokes over his length, he moves to grab your arm gently and entwines his other hand into your hair. A deep, muffled noise sounds from Gamzee, giving you nothing but encouragement to continue. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s climaxing, back stiffening and hands tightening their hold on you. His warmth bursts into the hand you have wrapped around him. He gasps, whispering your name. He relaxes after a few seconds, and you pull back your fluid-covered hand. You search his flushed face, and Gamzee meets your gaze. After a tense moment, you see him crack a smile and stifle a laugh from the seriousness you’d both been upholding. His smile is contagious, and before long you’re both trying to cover your laughter. You cup his cheek with your clean hand and guide his head forward, touching his forehead to yours. Your breathy laughter mixes with his, heating the space between your mouths. You love these moments with him; you live for them.

Later that night, once both you and Gamzee have cleaned up and returned to the mattress to catch some well-earned rest with each other, you’re staring into the near-darkness, focusing on his breathing behind you. His arm is draped over your torso, holding you close and protecting you, and in this position you feel his body curved around yours. 

“Come with me.” 

You hear his quiet, near-whisper sound at the back of your neck, followed by a quick kiss pressed to your skin. 

“What- where?” 

“You were all up and worrying about me leaving you... There ain’t being any need to be all afraid of losing me if you’re right up with me. And, I’d be motherfucking glad to have you.”

The room goes silent as you take into mind the suggestion placed before you. What is there to keep you here, anyways? Old, dying memories, and some dusty rubble? This was town where you were raised. You’d never left. But... if you were certain of anything, it was that this had never been your home. Yet, you still feel a tinge of nervousness in your gut.

“...Alright,” you whisper back, “but I’ll need a few days to get ready.” His arm tightens around you and he nuzzles into your neck, silently, but knowingly, delighted at your answer. 

Your home was with Gamzee, and always would be. Wherever he was, is where you should be, too. 

You move your hand to entwine into his, and you hold him back through the darkness, conveying the unspoken message you both know by heart.

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for my good friend Ari- so the few implied reader descriptions are based around her ;3c
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my read! I actually put some legit effort into this one, so I at least hope it was alright. Feel free to leave criticism or whatever. Have a nice day, reader!


End file.
